


the past is the past

by crashing_into_the_sun



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Rarepair, break ups, the lightest most subtle least smutty smut in the world you would barely know it was smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crashing_into_the_sun/pseuds/crashing_into_the_sun
Summary: Not that there was anything wrong with Malcolm. He was a handsome guy, sturdy and serious about his studies. He treated her like a princess. And he was powerful.But power wasn’t what Natasha wanted.She wanted wild golden hair and sloping hips and crinkles at the edges of baby blues that seemed to dance and twirl and glow- eyes that held the universe inside of them. She wanted soft, pink lips and straight, white teeth and a crooked nose dotted with freckles. But that was what Davy had, and Malcolm was what Natasha had, and that was the way it was.-the story before the story.





	the past is the past

**Author's Note:**

> are you ready for this crack ship first gen femslash because i am so ready and honestly its one of my favorite things i've ever written

The worst thing about seeing Natasha with Malcolm was how hard she always looked.

She had her dark hair pulled into a tight topknot and her mouth pressed into a harsh line, and she stood there, stiff as a statue, in her uniform. He towered over her, but she still didn’t look small. Lucy wasn’t sure if Natasha could look small. She was so tall and elegant, streamlined from her head to her feet. She commanded the attention in a room without a word. People listened to her. People respected her. But they weren’t afraid of her- when she smiled at you, it was impossible to be afraid of anything.

It was astonishing to Lucy how many people told her they were a “cute couple”. She didn’t see it at all. What she saw was her beautiful best friend, condensed into a lesser version of herself, standing next to a man that didn’t love her nearly as much as she deserved to be loved. And it drove her insane.

The worst thing about seeing Lucy with Davy was how happy she always looked.

Of course, Lucy was a happy-go-lucky person, with her crazy bronze curls springing out in all directions from her head and her lively blue eyes sparkling. She would lean into his shoulder and say something quietly, and he would furrow his eyebrows like he was angry, and then as if by magic, they would burst out laughing at what seemed to be the funniest thing in the world.

Not that there was anything wrong with Malcolm. He was a handsome guy, sturdy and serious about his studies. He treated her like a princess. And he was powerful.

But power wasn’t what Natasha wanted.

She wanted wild golden hair and sloping hips and crinkles at the edges of baby blues that seemed to dance and twirl and glow- eyes that held the universe inside of them. She wanted soft, pink lips and straight, white teeth and a crooked nose dotted with freckles. But that was what Davy had, and Malcolm was what Natasha had, and that was the way it was.

Well, not always.

-

“I can’t keep doing this,” Natasha breathed into the delicate skin of Lucy’s neck as Lucy tugged her hair free from its hair tie. It tumbled down and spilled around her shoulders.

“You look better with your hair down,” Lucy replied, ignoring Natasha’s statement. She was standing and Natasha sat on the bed. Lucy eased her way into the other girl’s lap, hooking one finger into the breast pocket of Natasha’s jacket. She wrapped her legs around Natasha’s middle and leaned in, pressing a feverish kiss just below the other girl’s ear.

“Really, Lucy, we can’t-”

“I know,” Lucy cooed, stroking Natasha’s hair and leaning in. The tips of their noses just brushed, and Natasha’s eyes looked like melting ice. “But we’re going to anyway.” She trailed her fingers down the sides of Natasha’s face and to her neck, then leaned in closer and kissed her. Natasha melted into her embrace, all protests long gone.

She deserved to be happy sometimes, didn’t she?

Her body answered for her as her hands began playing with the hem of Lucy’s pajama shirt. Lucy’s hair was still damp from showering and when it fell in her face and onto Natasha, it send a chill down Natasha’s spine. “How come you were back so late?” Lucy asked, breaking the kiss.

“I was helping Malcolm with his Elocution homework,” Natasha said, nuzzling into the crook of Lucy’s shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about him right now.” She slipped her hand further up into the hem of Lucy’s shirt.

“What do you want to talk about?” Lucy teased, leaning into Natasha. They tumbled backward onto the bed, laughing. Lucy wiggled her legs out from underneath Natasha.

“I don’t want to talk at all,” Natasha murmured, flipping Lucy over and tugging the shirt over her head. “I don’t want to talk at all.”

-

“We have to get up,” Natasha said reluctantly, pushing Lucy off her. She peeled herself out of the sheets and went towards the bathroom to run a shower.

“Don’t leave yet,” Lucy whined. She bunched the covers up around her chin. Natasha smiled.

“You look adorable,” she teased, but didn’t stop moving for the shower.

“Adorable enough for you to come back to bed for ten more minutes?”

“Not even close.”

-

When Lucy sat with Davy alone in the cafeteria, huddled into a corner, it felt wrong. She was with one of the few people she felt safe with, and they were having a good time, and eating good food, and it felt wrong.

When Natasha sat with Malcolm and his friends at a crowded, loud table, it felt wrong. Everyone was laughing and telling stories and she had a strong arm wrapped around her shoulders. And it just felt wrong.

What felt right was stolen moments in their room, holding hands under the guise of “best friends”, sneaking away into supply closets during dances.

What felt right was exactly what everyone else said wasn’t.

-

“Lucy, you know that I have no control over it! I have to marry him. It’s not my decision!”

“Of course it’s your decision!” Lucy cried, shoving Natasha away from her. She stood up off the bed so quickly she got dizzy. “You can do whatever you bloody well want!”

“Lucy, you don’t understand. I have to carry on the Pitch name. I have to marry one of the Grimms to secure family ties. It’s not a choice that I get to make, it’s been made for me for a long time.”

“I understand perfectly,” Lucy snarled, snatching her discarded skirt from the foot of the bed and pulling it up over her legs. “I’m not good enough for you or your stupid family, because I’m a girl. Because I’m not high status. I under-fucking-stand alright.”

“Don’t make this difficult,” Natasha started, standing up and walking towards her. Lucy lashed out, smacking her hand away.

“Don’t touch me!” Lucy sobbed. “You already made it difficult. It’s always been difficult.”

“That’s why we can’t do it anymore,” Natasha sighed. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I love you, Lucy, you know that…”

“If you loved me,” Lucy whispered. “Then you would show me.”

“How do you expect me to do that? I’m risking everything for you already!”

“Show me by telling Malcolm that it isn’t going to work out.” She spat the name like poison on her tongue. “Show me by telling your parents that Fiona can pass on the bloody Pitch name.”

Natasha sat back down. “Lucy,” she tried, but it sounded wrong. It sounded strangled and choked, like a dying thought.

“I just want you to love me like I deserve, Tasha. I love you that way.”

“That’s why I have to stop. Because you deserve so much that I can’t give,” They were both crying now, the tears running hot down Natasha’s face. “I love you, but I love Malcolm, too, and I love my family.”

“Since when do you love him? Last I heard, you thought he had the personality of a piece of stale bread.”

“He’s different once you get to know him, I swear. He’s gentle and kind and… And he’s what I’m meant to have.” The last word broke, and with it went Lucy’s last straw.

“Alright. You’ve made yourself clear. I’ll leave. I’ll never talk about it again.” She paused, gauging Natasha’s reaction, but the other girl didn’t move a muscle. She just stared down at her knees in shame. “But don’t expect us to be friends. I never wanted to be ‘just friends’ with you, Tasha. I’m never going to want that.”

She went to the door and opened it, lingering for a second, hoping, praying to be called back. But she knew it was done. Natasha had made up her mind, and she’d probably made the right choice. Malcolm was the easier way, the one that made the most sense.

Lucy had always been a fluke.

-

Two boys kissed, sprawled out on a couch with a fire roaring quiet and steady in the old-fashioned fireplace. One was tall, with dark hair that fell over his face in waves. His jaw was sharp, his bones as thin and finely shaped as the stems of goblets. The other was rougher, with tumbling golden curls and smiling blue eyes. His t-shirt had a spaghetti stain on the front of it. Both looked just like their mothers.


End file.
